Beside the Pain
by DaniNatureGirl313
Summary: The people around addicts suffer just as much, if not more, than the addicts themselves. This is the story of one such person. When British transfer student Alana Hendrickson meets Brandon Sullivan, a deep passion develops between them, one that neither quite understands. This is how Alana handles the question: "How does one handle being in-love w/ a sex addict?"
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"Mummy, why don't you talk about New York a lot", asked little Kendra. Her mother knew neither what to think, nor how to answer her. Alana Hendrickson had been…well, she hadn't been dreading this conversation per se, but she hadn't exactly been looking forward to it, either. She considered herself to be in a strange kind of blah state about it, actually.

Every time her daughter brought up the subject of her young-adulthood, it would conjure up a million images in her mind. Some memories were good, and some were bad. Many were sad, though, and they contained some valuable teaching moments. She remembered one thing in particular, a certain man…she remembered his laugh, as well as his seemingly confident smile. However, she also recalled how he'd shy away whenever she'd try to touch him, even for the simplest things. She cleared her throat, glancing sideways out the diner's window as more snow began coming down on Manhattan. Her girl's voice called again, saying "Mummy" in a questioning tone, and she returned her attention to the eight-year-old.

Staring deep into Kendra's big blue eyes, she reached across the table and sighed, saying, "I don't talk about my time here a lot, sweetheart, because…because it was a very complicated time. One of my friends had a difficult life, and his problems are quite painful for him to deal with, even now I'm sure. I haven't mentioned that around you much, because I don't want you getting scared of some of the stories." "But I'm a big girl now. I should know these things." Alana paused, briefly going deep in thought before saying, "You're absolutely right. You _should_ know. I've been putting this off for too long. Some stuff will have to wait until you're a bit older and can properly understand them, but I suppose…I suppose you can know the basics." She motioned for Kendra to join her on the opposite side of the table, which she did.

The child asked, "Could you start with the story about your special friend, the one you say was so sad all the time?" She got a giggled-out reply of "Okay, okay." Alana put her arm around her daughter's shoulders, took a deep breath, and said, "It all began when I'd just finished my gap year. I was so excited to be starting my first year of university, even more so because it would also be my first time in America. I had taken the flight over from London a few days earlier…" And so, the flashback began.


	2. Chapter 1: Nice To Meet You

_**Chapter One: Nice To Meet You**_

"And when you look in my eyes, it's not hard for you to realize…she'll never be me." We pulled into the parking garage, laughing out our joy for all to hear. We threw our hands up at the end of the song, and we gave a collective happy shout. I couldn't believe it. I was really there in America. It was to attend college, yes, but I still couldn't wait to experience the culture there. A couple of my best girlfriends had already been living there a little while, and the promised to show me the ropes. One girl behind me said, "No one could better write the soundtrack for my life than Brittney Spears." I giggled.

Jodie was the only U.S. girl I knew, since she'd taken her own first year of college in England. She was the one who'd found me my new apartment and helped with all the arrangements related to it. I owed her so much for that. Bridget, my friend since the beginning of primary school, chimed in with, "Oh, spare me, girl. You're a _total_ groupie." "And you're not? You were singing along, just like the rest of us." That third voice came from Chloe, my other fellow Brit, whom I'd met in my third year of secondary school. I was trying so hard not to laugh as I told them, "Hey, quiet down there, peanut gallery! You're all supposed to be helping me here." Chloe told me, "We _are_ helping you, Alana. All work and no play make life very boring." "Yeah, well…look, I wanted to have all these boxes inside, and have at least half of them opened by sunset. We'd better get a move-on."

It took us what felt like an eternity to get all the boxes into my new flat. I was the last one up the stairs, breathing heavily as I practically hurled the box I carried through the door. Bridget was leaning against the kitchen counter, splashing small amounts of water on the back of her overheated neck. She said, "It's great that your parents had the furniture shipped ahead of time. My word, I think I'd die if I had to drag all that up here." I took a sip from my energy drink, which had long since gone warm, panting as I nodded my agreement to her. I looked around the area, glad that the couches, tables, and t. v. set were all in the places I'd asked for. I'd already thanked Jodie for sending the apartment's floor plan to my family, so they'd know how everything would look. Once I recovered, I began walking around the living room.

I smiled as I reached the window, which stretched from floor to ceiling, and I took a deep breath as I admired the city's skyline. But as I took said breath, I discovered something about my new home. "Hey guys…I just realized this now, but…do you all smell that?" They looked confused, just about as confused as I felt. I then asked, "Why does it smell like bleach in here?" There was a brief awkward pause. "No, seriously, it smells like bleach in here. Gosh, where…where is that coming from?" I had everyone looking around, trying to figure out the source of the smell. After checking every possible corner in the front rooms, I wandered around to the bedroom. My bedframe was there, complete with the mattress and box-spring. So were my small television set, chest of drawers, and writing desk.

However, there were also a couple pieces of furniture I didn't recognize, two small beside tables near the center of the room. I looked back into the hallway and called for Jodie. When she came over, I asked her, "Do you know where those came from?" She said, "No, I don't. I guess they must've belonged to the previous owner. My uncle told me the other guy wanted a change of scenery, and that's why you were able to get such a good deal on this place." I shrugged. "Might as well check it out. I mean, it's highly unlikely the dude will ever notice, anyway, if he even comes back for them."

I walked over to one of the tables and crouched down, slowly opening one of the drawers. When I saw what was inside, I rolled my eyes as a grossed-out shudder ran through me. I mumbled under my breath, "Such a guy thing." Jodie was trying to look over my shoulder, and I heard her ask what I was looking at. I told her, "I think I know what inspired the bleach smell." "What is it?" I sighed as I held up a heavy bunch of _Playboy_ magazines. "Tsk. Why do men have to be so disgusting?" "I don't know. It must be in the genetic code or something." She laughed. I then said, "Well, whoever this guy is", and I paused for effect, "he's on major overload. There's, like…more issues here than one normal person could buy in a year." "We can worry about that later. I'm _starving_, and I think the others are on the verge of collapse." I giggled as I followed her back to the living room.

An hour-and-a-half later, the pizza had arrived, the makeovers had been done, and we were all in the process of enjoying a marathon of "Friday the 13th" movies on the AMC channel. I got up to mix everybody some ice-cream sodas, smiling as I turned up the radio so we could hear Robert Palmer's "Addicted to Love" more clearly. We started singing along, using our spoons as makeshift microphones. In the middle of that, Chloe went to the fridge and poured some ginger ale into four champagne glasses. She carefully brought them over to us, saying as she passed them out, "Let's drink a toast…to new starts, adventures that's we'll talk about for decades to come—" Bridget chimed in with, "And all the impossibly hot guys we'll meet along the way." We were laughing as we tapped the glasses together to complete the toast. I was taking a second sip from mine, when I suddenly heard a knock at the door. I stood up and told my friends, "Be back in a second." Walking over to answer, I had no idea that my life was about to be changed forever.

I didn't know what I'd been expecting as I opened the door, but seeing such an incredibly gorgeous man on the other side sure wasn't it. He looked like he belonged in an ad for Ralph Lauren: button-down greyish-blue shirt tucked into dark jeans, black dress shoes with a matching blazer, light auburn hair combed neatly back, and a fancy-looking watch that peeked out from beneath his left sleeve. He ducked his head down just a bit and questioned softly, "Miss?"

Instantly coming back to Earth, I shook my head and laughed, waving off the awkwardness. I said, "Uh, yeah, sorry about that. I was…kind of…you know, in my own little world for a second." He flashed an understanding smile, and for the briefest of moments, I felt my knees turn to goo. Dazzling didn't even begin to cover it. Tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear, I asked him, "So…is there something you wanted?" He raised an eyebrow, but I ignored it. I then asked if something was wrong. He told me, "No, not at all. I just came by to pick up my tables." It finally made sense. Ironic and coincidental sense, but it was still sense nonetheless. I lightly smacked my forehead as I said, "You're the guy who used to live here. We were discussing you earlier today, actually." That eyebrow went up again with, "We?" He gave a second tiny glimpse of those pearly whites when I blushed.

Our moment was interrupted by Jodie's voice, calling my name and asking, "What's going on there?" "Just the former occupant, that's all." I turned back to the man and gave an apologetic smile, my heart strangely in my throat as I slid the door-lock open and welcomed him inside. Softly, I told him in a slightly-embarrassed tone, "Sorry about that. We just weren't expecting a visitor so late at night. We're sort of having a girls' club meeting." He replied, "Sounds like my kind of party." I laughed under my breath. The girls were all staring at him, just as I was trying so hard not to. I didn't want to be rude, after all, but… Sarcasm flashed across my mind as I realized how awesome I looked at that moment. With my hair in double-braids, flannel pajamas, and cushioning between my toes to help the polish on them dry…yeah, a real supermodel there.

I noticed the man staring at me again, an intensity radiating from the back of his deep ice-blue eyes that I couldn't describe. Suddenly looking down to hide another blush, I cupped the back of my neck and said, "So, yeah, um…I'll just…I'll just go push those tables out here for you. Would you like me to help you get them downstairs?" "No, that's okay. I can handle it. I'll just get them one at a time." I nodded quickly and walked towards my room, pausing at the doorway and looking over my shoulder as I said, "Didn't catch your name." He smiled, a big full-on one this time, and it was all I could do not to give a girly squeal. Clearing his throat, he told me, "It's Brandon. Brandon Sullivan." I smiled back. "Alana Hendrickson."


	3. Chapter 2: Blushing Maiden

_**Chapter Two: Blushing Maiden**_

I could hear Brandon introducing himself to my friends as I walked into my room, pushing each table from there into the hallway. He must've seen me struggling, because he immediately walked over and said, "I've got it from here." "Are you sure?" "Yeah, yeah, it's no problem. Just help me get to the outside hall, and I'll take them the rest of the way." Remarkably, despite them appearing so heavy, it didn't take too long to help get the tables outside. However, once that was done, he didn't simply leave like I expected him to.

When he got back upstairs, he leaned against my dining room counter, asking "Does anybody fancy a smoke", as he balanced a box of cigarettes between two fingers. Chloe raised her hand, muttering as she strode over ti him, "Thank heavens. I've _so_ needed this _all_ day." Brandon smiled and clicked on his lighter for her, returning his gaze to me as she took a puff. He asked, "So, what brings you to the states?" I swallowed hard, rocking nervously from heels to toe-tips as I replied, "It's for school, actually. I've always wanted to see America, and I figured that coming to university here was the perfect idea…now that my gap year is done." "Sounds cool. What did you do _during_ it?" "Volunteer work, mostly. A friend of mine's mother runs a veterinary clinic, so…yeah." "Did you like it?" "I loved it. I'd like to become a licensed professional for that. My family's really keen on it, too. They like the idea. My two older brothers, Mick and Greg, are really supportive. Hey, do you have any brothers or sisters?"

For some reason, my question seemed to have unnerved Brandon. I mean, he didn't say anything. But I caught a quick, strange flicker in his eyes once I mentioned the idea of siblings, and his smile appeared to slacken a tiny bit. What could be wrong? He lit a cigarette of his own before saying, "Yes, I do, actually. I have one sister, who's just two years younger than me. She lives with me now." "Oh, that's _great_. What's her name?" "Ironically enough, it's Sissy, spelled with an 's', too. Don't ask me why. I never understood it, either." I giggled, fighting the blush that tried to come as he took a second puff. Then, his eyes scanned the room, and he seemed to notice that something was off. Chloe was standing near the window, allowing her smoke to go outside without affecting the air in the apartment.

Realization coming over his face, he rubbed the space between his eyes and said, "I am so sorry. I shouldn't have…" He backed away slowly, covering the end of the cigarette to make sure none of us were breathing it in. I waved him off, telling him it was okay, even daring so much as to place my hand on his forearm in reassurance. Instantly, we both froze, and our faces tilted down, gravitating to the spot. I quickly pulled away, embarrassed beyond belief as I hurriedly said, "Sorry. I'm s-so sorry about that. I-I didn't mean to-." He cut me off with, "It's fine. Really, it is."

I could see he was lying, though. When I'd touched him, he seemed to…well, "recoil" wasn't exactly the right word, nor were "flinch", or even "wince. It seemed to be a mix of all three words, and yet none of them at the same time. I had never, in all my life, seen someone react like that to such a simple touch before. It was almost like he was afraid of normal physical human contact. But that was…that was impossible, right? I mean, a guy that good-looking had to have a girlfriend, and she probably touched him constantly. I forced myself to stop that line of thinking as soon as I started it, because it was rapidly taking me down a strand of imagination that my beloved great-grandmother would've said was "unfit for a proper lady".

While I'd been wrapped up in my musings, Brandon had already gone through his cigarette, and he was walking toward the door. I took a tentative half-step forward, wanting to smooth things over and give him some sort of respectful good-bye. A part of me ignored the fact that saying good-bye was, at that moment, the absolute last thing I wanted to do. He looked over his shoulder to face me, one hand resting on the doorknob as he flashed yet another blindingly white smile. Oh, those dimples he had…they pushed his cheeks high up beneath his eyes, making the slight crinkles next to them more pronounced. It was the Webster Dictionary's definition of what a smile should be.

I barely registered him speaking to my friends and bidding them farewell. As I came back to Earth again, I watched him nod at the t. v. and say, "That one's my favorite of the series, the one with the telekinetic girl. She kicks total-." I giggled, knowing he'd been about to curse and was gracious enough to stop himself. He sheepishly glanced down at the floor before scooting back another step and saying, "I should probably go. I'm sorry to have disturbed your evening." "No, no, it's not disturbing at all. Actually, we've rather enjoyed your company." Those words came from Bridget, the most guy-crazy of us all. A breathy, wistful "uh-huh" came from Jodie, her head resting on her fist as she leaned over the back of the couch. I playfully rolled my eyes and shook my head.

I heard Brandon chuckle under his breath at my reaction. Then, he said, "Oh, just a bit of advice before I forget." He pointed in the direction of the bathroom before continuing, "The knobs in the shower are a bit tricky. They've somehow been reversed, meaning cold is hot, and hot is cold. So, be sure to really focus when you're using them. Otherwise, things can go…quite awry." I giggled, thanking him for the warning and telling him I'd keep his words in mind. He opened the door and stepped into the main hall. But just before disappearing completely, he poked his head back in, gestured at the huge living room windows, and said, "You'll enjoy those, I promise. The views here are absolutely amazing." I ignored Bridget's mumbled reply of "No doubt", and I replied, "I know that. I can already tell…this is…my time here is going to be great." "Let's hope so", he said with a wink. Then, as he slowly shut the door, he told me, "I do hope we see each other again, Miss Alana." A second wink was followed by softly said farewells, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

I kept staring semi-blankly at the space where Brandon Sullivan once stood. There was a faint hint of tobacco in the air, as was to be expected, but there were also a couple of other things, too. I caught the scent of…Irish Spring Soap…or was it Old Spice, maybe? I couldn't be too certain. The smell was probably an expensive kind of cologne, but I didn't recognize it. I watched Chloe walk over to the door, turning around in my direction as she leaned back against it. "In the words of the immortal Jim Carrey…", and she took a quick puff before finishing, "_Ssssmokin_'!" I giggled as I rolled my eyes again, lightly shoving her out of the way as I walked over to the counter and took a seat.

Bridget flopped backwards onto the couch with an over-dramatic sigh. She stretched her arms and folded them behind her head, saying, "I think GQ needs to issue a missing persons report for one of their models." "You're both such idiots", I mumbled into a fresh can of soda. "Oh, _we're_ idiots? Who was the one so shamelessly ogling him—" "You were doing it, too, so don't start in on me. You're doing it _now_, and he's not even _here_ anymore." "More's the pity for us." "Yeah, I'm sure we all made _quite_ a sight", and I finished my words with a grand sweeping gesture to indicate our choices of pajamas.

My friend was not to be swayed, however. She said, "Girlfriend…I'd stand here in a burlap sack and fuzzy duck slippers…heck, I'd dye my hair purple and orange, too, if it meant he'd have stared at me like he did at you." "_He_ has a name, you know. He told it to us clearly enough." "Defending him already?" I shot her a look. She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know he has a name, alright? _Brandon_…it's perfect for him. You so rarely see a guy these days with a name that just perfectly fits his face and attitudes." Chloe mumbled "And what a face it is" as she took a third puff on her cigarette. She then looked at it, held it up, and said, "I'm _never_ throwing this one away. Not for a million dollars." I giggled as I threw popcorn from a nearby bowl at her. Not missing a beat, she picked up each piece and ate it, making "mm"-type noises to prove her "I don't care" point. I stuck my tongue out at her, and she did the same to me. As we all crowded back onto the couch to finish watching the movie, Jodie leaned over and whispered in my ear, "They're right, you know, about earlier." I just told her to "shut up".

Later that night, I was having a pretty hard time sleeping. I mean, for most people, especially ones my age, the first night in a new home can be quite nerve-wracking. But that wasn't what was keeping me up. No, it wasn't simple relocation jitters at all. It was a face…_his_ face. I wanted to slap Bridget for speaking the truth about how perfect _his_ name really was…that same perfect cadence rhythm which escaped my lips as I ran through the dream-world. I was in a kind of park, or maybe even a cemetery. It was so hard to tell in all the darkness and fog. At least, the darkness wasn't complete, since the street lights did give out the occasional scattered orange beam. My breath came out in tiny puffs of mist as I jogged, my curly hair flying out all around me. Wait…curly hair? When did I curl my hair? What was going on?

I walked over to a nearby puddle to look at my reflection, and what I saw shocked me. I was wearing a mint-green evening gown with an empire waistline, two diamante straps coming from the center of my chest and linking around my neck. I was also wearing matching silver heels. A rustling in the bushes startled me, so I gathered up a bit of my skirt and took off again. I started hearing a clock-tower, its booming chime reminiscent of the homesickness-inducing sound of Big Ben.

I stopped a second time to catch my breath, smiling a bit at the comfort the sound of the clock-tower brought. I probably shouldn't have, though. The minute I let down my guard, a pair of hands reached out from the shadows, grabbing my upper arms from behind. I should've screamed, but my mouth wouldn't open enough for me to do so. In fact, all that escaped my barely-opened lips was a tiny, weak squeal. It was one that said the person making it wasn't entirely uncomfortable with the situation, and was lying to themselves if they claimed they were. A soft "shh" kissed at my ears, definitely not the wind. From what I could best judge, the man behind me, and I knew it was definitely a man from his strength and build, was wearing a dark brown Victorian-era suit. His hands slowly slid their way over me, the right one coming to rest across upper stomach, and the left one splaying out across my right cheek. The pulse-point of his wrist was barely a centimeter from my lips, all too easy to try and kiss…but no, I couldn't. I _shouldn't_.

I turned my head away, even though I clearly loved the surprising warmth of his hands. I placed both of my own hands on his forearms and gently tried to pry them away, while also trying to ignore how happy I was that he no longer seemed to be afraid of touching me. What brought about this change, I didn't know, and I honestly didn't care. He leaned down and nuzzled his face into the curve of my neck, his stubble lightly scratching my skin. He was mumbling in a whisper, "Stay…stay…please, don't go…stay." I tried to respond, saying, "Crazy…too crazy…dangerous." "Danger can be good sometimes." I tried to talk again, but he kept right on with his plea of "stay". I felt the tip of his nose brush my earlobe, the suddenness of that making me instantly sit upright in bed.

Wait a minute. I was still in bed? It was all a dream? If I were the cursing type, I was sure I would've at that point. For goodness sakes, I could still smell the earthy peat-moss and leaves I'd run through. I could still feel the chill of the breeze on my skin. I could still…oh, how I wanted to blame Bridget for this. This had to be her fault in some way, or at least the fault of all those Bronte books I loved to read. Yes, yes, that was it…just a hopeless flight of fancy brought on via a romance novel. The little invisible devil on my shoulder just kept whispering, "Yeah, keep telling yourself that, crazy-pants."

I groaned as I stumbled out of bed, careful to step over Jodie as she cuddled in her sleeping bag. The others were doing the same in the living room, all having promised that they wouldn't let me face the notoriously fearful "first night' alone. I took my water bottle from my bedside table, sipping from it as I walked over to the window and looked out. Brandon was right. These were amazing views, especially at nighttime. Oh, get a hold of yourself, girl! Just the thought of his name, and I was blushing like a preteen schoolgirl. My hand shook slightly as I brought the bottle to my mouth again.

What was it about this man that had me so on-edge so soon after meeting him, and not necessarily in a bad way? Why did I feel a tiny flare-up of jealously earlier, when I thought about him having a girlfriend? I'd have to ignore these feelings. I had no choice in that. I shook my head slightly to clear my thoughts. I was in America to learn, not to go all goo-goo-eyes over an older guy, one that was probably not even interested in me. As I put my bottle down and got back into bed a couple of minutes later, I couldn't wait to see what the next day would bring. New York City was now mine to tame. Never mind Brandon Sullivan. I would show this place what I was made of. I was so much more than just a naïve blushing maiden. Everybody would know that soon enough. Look out, new world. Here I come.


	4. Chapter 3: This Is Sissy

_**Chapter Three: This Is Sissy**_

A little over two weeks later, Chloe, Jodie, and I were done with our classes for the day. Bridget had to stay behind and make up some lab time, since she'd been out due to illness. I waved good-bye to my friends as I walked into the gym, feeling the attention of every man in sight as I took a place at one of the treadmills. Honestly, dudes, it was just a butt. There were countless others in there. Perverts…the lot of them. My iPod buds were then firmly implanted in my ears, softly sending the words of David Bowie to my brain.

Yep, I was the stereotypical loyal-to-my-fellow-natives British girl. I'd joked to my brothers before leaving that I'd probably meet David here, long before either of them met a Victoria's Secret model. Everyone knew he lived in New York, so that wasn't entirely outside the realm of possibility. I hummed the melody and very softly began singing along with him: "—strasse. A man lost in time, near Kadewe. Where are we now? Where are we now? The moment you know, you know, you kn-" My mind suddenly froze when I looked up, and my eyes grew wide. Why, you ask? Because there, in the doorway of the gym with a shorter blond woman next to him, was the very man I thought I'd never see again: Brandon Sullivan.

It was no surprise how great he looked: a bright red t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show off his arms, white-and-silver basketball shorts, and expensive-looking Air Nike sneakers. A duffle bag was slung over his right shoulder, a quarter-empty Gatorade bottle in that same hand. The girl at his side was dressed in a similar style: tight light grey leggings, white sneakers, and a long-sleeved, sky-blue t-shirt. Her light blond hair was held back in a loose bun, which was small because her hair was so short. A second Gatorade bottle was sticking out from her purse. This had to be the much-speculated-about girlfriend, and I swallowed back the small flare of jealously that flared at that idea.

They seemed to be having a light, but still semi-heated discussion. Through the noise of both the gym and my iPod, I could hear her saying, "Brand…Brand, I-" He groaned in response, though I didn't know if that was because he hated the nickname, or he just didn't want to talk. The girl was probably here for an aerobics class. She certainly seemed to me like the type of person who'd enjoy it. I watched them as they started to walk past me, my heart slowly climbing into my throat. Suddenly, Brandon froze mid-step, tilting his head slightly as he seemed to realize that certain eyes were on him. He'd been the focus of many longing stares from the millisecond he'd come in there from almost all the single women, and from a few married ones, too. Even a couple of men raised their eyebrows. It wasn't one-sided either. I'd noticed how his eyes quickly swished back and forth as he'd first walked in, briefly focusing on particular butts or sets of boobs. Typical man. I rolled my eyes at how that brought back images of the conversation I'd had with my friends over him.

Almost from the minute we'd woken up the next morning, he was all they could talk about. Chloe said, "I don't even care about all the nudie mags. I'd make him forget about those babies in a heartbeat", and she snapped her fingers to emphasize her point. "Sure, you would", said Bridget as she crunched on her cereal. I just shook my head and laughed under my breath at their behavior, at the same time ignoring the "lady doth protest too much" looks Jodie kept giving me. One of them, but I can't remember who, said, "A person could cut glass on that jaw." I just wanted to push that strange dream out of my mind completely, or at least push it far enough to the back where it wasn't totally consuming my ability to focus on anything else. I took a sip from my water bottle as I came out of the flashback.

Brandon was still rooted to the same spot as before, talking with his companion. I tried to focus on anything else but him, to no avail. My body was still going through the motions of exercise, but my mind was somewhere else. I immediately conjured up images of my great-grandmother again to help bring it back. The throat-clearing I did seemed to draw his attention, something my brain was fighting with itself over it being good or bad. Logic was screaming "Bad, bad, bad" in bright, flashing, neon letters. But the goo-ridden everything else said it was a very good thing. His eyes met mine, and I saw a flicker of recognition in them. The corners of his mouth quirked up slightly, and my heart skipped a beat when I caught the tiniest of glimpses of that oh, so charming smile. I felt myself start to smile back, when his attention was once again taken away by the girl beside him.

When he turned back to me a second later, I hadn't even noticed that the song on my iPod had changed to the opening of Evanescence's "Haunted". I was wrapped up as Amy Lee began to describe the relationship she was in: "Long lost words whisper slowly to me. Still can't find what keeps me here. When, all this time, I've been so hollow inside. I know you're still there." That may have sounded a bit too deep to describe my attitude towards Brandon, especially because I'd only met the man two weeks ago and hadn't seen him since. But hey, it seemed like the perfect backdrop music for my little sleep-induced Victorian melodrama. I almost giggled at the image. The expression that created earned me a raised eyebrow, making my face instantly get warm and red.

Brandon winked at me as he headed over to the weights area, and his companion went off to choose a stationary bike. The fact that he knew what he was doing to me and relished it made me all kinds of frustrated, which I growled about under my breath. He thought this was funny? He thought this was a game? Well, I was going to teach him how to play by my rules, or he just wouldn't play at all. I knew that look on his face far too well, the classic male stare of lust. There was something else in that, too, but I just couldn't place it. I swallowed back the warmth that was blooming in my face as he started lifting weights, and I became entranced by the flexing and contracting of his muscles.

All this had happened in a couple of seconds, and I found myself relating so strongly to Miss Lee's next words: "Watching me, wanting me, I can feel you pull me down. Fearing you, loving you, I won't let you pull me down. Hunting you, I can smell you…alive, your heart, pounding in my head." Hunting? Well, at that point, I felt more like the hunt_ed_. Smell him? No, but I could definitely feel his eyes on me, almost boring into the deepest possible part of me. I simply ignored the "love" part…way, _way_ too much to think about right now. And though my heart was indeed racing, I was definitely not going to let him "pull me down". So, I gave a small smile and waved back, before returning my attention to my workout. Take that, mate.

I turned my iPod to the section I'd put aside for songs from animated movies, choosing one and letting Sheena Easton sing about how pushy guys could "count her out". It was from the movie "All Dogs Go to Heaven 2", one of my favorites, both as a kid and now. She was at the second verse when I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I turned to see the blond woman from earlier, with a hopeful smile on her face. Somewhat timidly, she asked, "Hi there. Um…i-is this one reserved for somebody?" She gestured at another treadmill next to me. Briefly taking one bud from my ear, I smiled back and said, "Sure. Go ahead." As I watched her set the speed and difficulty levels, I decided to talk to her. She seemed kind of lonely, like she really needed a friend. Softly, I said, "Hey. I, um…I'm Alana. Alana Hendrickson." She gently shook my offered hand and replied, "Sissy Sullivan."

If I could've smacked myself in the head at that moment without looking weird, believe me, I would've. "You knucklehead", I told myself, "You completely forgot about his sister." She said, I, uh, saw Brandon staring at you. I hope that…I-I hope it wasn't a bother. If it was, I'm sorry, and I can try talking to him about it later." I waved her off. "No, no, it's not any trouble at all. In fact, your brother and I are already acquainted." She looked confused, so I told her everything, including all the naughty jokes my friends made about him. After a little while, she finally started to loosen up, giggling before saying, "Oh, gosh…I wish I could've been there." "No, you don't. Trust me, you don't." I was somewhat surprised at how easily we got along, how quickly a couple of simple words were becoming friendship. Sissy was a very loving person, the kind who'd hug the whole planet fi she could, but I somehow knew that the society we lived in had once taken terrible advantage of her good nature. It was a sixth sense kind of thing.

After a certain point, we forgot all about our exercise plans. I told Sissy about my childhood in England, even showing her the pictures of my family I kept in my wallet. She laughed so hard at one of the more recent photos, which was from a costume party. I was a gypsy dancer. My brothers were dressed as the Green Lantern and a circus ringmaster, respectively. We were making bunny ears behind each other's heads, smiling with reckless abandon. I told her, "The proceeds from this party went to an AIDS charity. Mick's the big practical jokester in the family, the type who'll wear a squirting flower on his jacket lapel. Greg's a tiny bit more serious, but equally as hyper." "They sound amazing." "Well, they're great in small doses, yes."

When she giggled, I said, "Yeah, yeah, they are pretty cool. They both want to be stage actors, no surprise there in my eyes." "And you want…?" "I want to be a vet. I mean, don't get me wrong, I do love the stage so much. I've loved it ever since I was a preteen and heard the soundtrack to '_Phantom of the Opera_' for the first time. I just don't think I've got the kind of constant stamina a career like that requires." "Well, that's understandable, I guess. What about your parents. What do they do?" "They're both psychologists, if you can believe it. Mum works with kids, and Dad specializes in war veterans." "Sounds awesome." A voice cut me off before I could respond: "Totally."

My heart once more pounding, I turned to my left and tossed my chestnut hair over my shoulder, pretending to be annoyed as I asked, "How long have you been standing there?" "Long enough to see that _you_…are a very interesting person." He took a bite of a granola bar, smiling naughtily all the way. Then, he said, "Actually, as much as I was enjoying being an eavesdropper…", and he smirked when I rolled my eyes before continuing, "I really came over to let Sissy know we have to leave. I need to get her home before I head to my boss's birthday party." It was then my new friend's turn to roll her eyes. She mumbled under her breath, "Brand…come on, why do you still kiss up to that guy?" Brandon narrowed his eyes. "I do what I must to keep the roof over our heads. And for your information, I happen to like my job. I thought you understood that." She scoffed. I could feel the awkward tension, crackling between all three of us. "Um…sh-should I just go now?"

Sissy immediately turned to face me and said, "No, no, you don't have to. In fact…" She turned back to her brother and finished, "Hey, look, why don't I come with you to the party and bring Alana with me? See, that way, I won't be in your hair all night. Come on. What do you think?" Brandon looked skeptical. I knew he probably didn't want his sister cutting in on his space, but the eager expression she had was rapidly weakening his resolve. He glanced over her shoulder at me, silently asking for my opinion. I just shrugged as if you say, "It's your call, dude." He rolled his eyes, scratching the back of his head as he mumbled, "Alright, alright…if you really want her there. But don't forget, this is Alana's choice, too." It wasn't even a question for me. I put my arm around Sissy's shoulders, giving her my agreement. I'd been to similar parties with my parents before, so this one would be no problem. She squealed in delight before writing down the directions to the restaurant the party was being held at. I hugged her and waved slightly at Brandon as I left the gym, again feeling his eyes on me the entire time.


	5. Chapter 4: Flirtation

_**Chapter Four: Flirtation**_

_**AN: I just want to make clear that I own neither the characters in this story (except Alana & her family), nor any of the songs. Oh, & as a further word of warning...music will be a constant theme in many of my stories, as I think it provides excellent backgrounds & insights into different character's mindsets. **_

"What do you mean you're not sure what to wear?" "I groaned and buried my face in my hands, wishing I'd never told Bridget about my plans for the evening. She'd been buzzing around my apartment all day like a mini-tornado, getting everything I could possibly need for tonight. "Does it really matter? I mean…look, it's a party for his boss, not for him or met. And besides, his sister is technically the one who invited me." "Yes, it _does_ matter. This is the first transition, the point where he'll decide whether or not to up his flirt game and really pursue you as a girlfriend. You need to make a good impression. Now, let's see…" I had no choice but to step back and let her work. I felt so ridiculous, standing in the window in my grey yoga shorts and pink tank-top, like a store mannequin waiting for its new display. I was zoning out into a world of magical green butterflies, when Bridget called me back.

She was grinning broadly, holding up one hanger in particular. On it was a navy-blue sleeveless sparkly dress, which would come to about two inches above my knees. It would cover my chest completely, but would still be tight enough to show that off. I groaned. "Are you sure?" "Definitely. Trust me, sweetheart. Brandon will be swimming through his own drool to get to you, once he sees you in this." "Why should I care if you're right?" She rolled her eyes and stomped over to me, grabbing a fistful of my shirt and forcing me into a nearby chair. I was about to yell at her for that, but she interrupted me by saying, "Just sit back, relax, and let me take care of you."

"Alright, baby doll, we're here", said the cab driver. I sighed and slumped back against the seat, twiddling my thumbs a bit in nervousness. The driver asked if I was alright, but I just smiled and gave him his payment for the trip. Patting him on the shoulder, I thanked him for his help as I left the cab. I caught a sideways glimpse of myself in the club's window, and I was surprised to find myself agreeing with Bridget's earlier statement: "Holy cow, girl, you're a knockout!" She'd then reassured me that my outfit was appropriate for the occasion. Along with my dress, there was a matching pair of navy heels, but they weren't sparkly. I also had a small silver purse, which matched the angel pendant around my neck. My chestnut hair was pulled back, but still left down in what my friend had deemed "romantic waves". I gave my name to the doorman, and he smiled as he welcomed me in. Thank goodness that Sissy had already prepped him about me.

Feeling my confidence slowly rising, I sauntered over to the bar and took a seat. I asked the bartender for ice-water with a splash of lemon, perfect for helping me calm down until I settled in. I was so busy people-watching, that I didn't notice a man walking towards me from the other direction. "You're new around here." I turned to face the owner of that voice, a partial smile on my face. "Yes, I am. A friend invited me as an extra 'plus one'." "Oh, well, I'll be sure to thank that friend." This guy had a used-car salesman personality. That much was clear to me. So, I decided to humor him. I let his feeble attempts at flirting go in one ear and out the other, smiling politely all the way. After a short while, another party guest called for him, and I breathed an inward sigh of relief as he excused himself and walked away. I wasn't alone for long. Mere seconds after the other man was gone, I felt a light tap on my shoulder. A now-all-too-familiar voice said, "Hey, pretty lady"…Brandon.

When I turned around to face him completely, I was sure I heard his breath hitch. There was no way I'd ever tell Bridget about that, though. I'd never hear the end of it. His dark purple button-down shirt made his eyes seem even lighter, the ice-blue almost having the appearance of glowing silver. I gave a soft "hey" in return, smiling sideways as I swirled the water in my glass around and took a sip. He swallowed hard, and I heard him clear his throat. Taking his place in the seat next to mine, he then said, "I honestly didn't think you'd show up." "Oh? Why is that?" I looked directly into his eyes, not flinching away like I'd done in the gym. I held his gaze, matching inner strength for inner strength. I hadn't been paying attention until then, but the song playing over the loudspeakers, Lady Gaga's "Show Me Your Teeth", was a perfect match for this moment. The dare was in both our eyes as the words played: "Tell me something that'll save me. I need a man who makes me feel alright. Tell me something that'll save me. I'm gonna love you with my hands tied. Show me your teeth."

Whether or not he was actually listening to the song, I didn't know. But he still did as it requested, flashing that brilliant toothy grin and clearing his throat a second time. He cast a quick glance somewhere behind us before asking, "Would you like to dance?" Mildly surprised, I asked back, "You dance?" He only chuckled under his breath as he stood up again, placing an arm around my shoulder. I briefly shut my eyes, willing back the nervous tremor that wanted to run through my body at his touch. With gentle pressure, he softly said, "Come on", and he led me to the dance floor. All the while, Lady Gaga's plea still blared above our heads: "Show me your teeth. Just tell me when. Show me your teeth. Open your mouth, boy. Show me your teeth. Show what you've got. Show me your teeth."

By that point, we'd found a good spot and stopped walking. But suddenly, Brandon tilted his head, as if intently listening to the lyrics coming from the speakers. "Hmm..." He pointed up at the ceiling and asked, "I think _that's_ a bit aggressive, don't you?" "What do you mean?" He merely bounced his eyebrows once, mouthing the words "wait here" before disappearing into the crowd. I remained in place, confused beyond belief. That only grew when I spotted him at the deejay's booth, whispering something into the younger man's ear. He was back by my side in a flash, and I realized the song had changed. A tiny smile crossed my face, recognizing the song as "Because the Night", and I saw a similar expression on Brandon's face. He held out one hand palm-up and asked simply, "Shall we?" I giggled and nodded my head, shockingly confident as I placed my hand in his. In reflex, my opposite arm went up to his shoulder, while his did the same on my back. I playfully raised an eyebrow, which earned me another soft chuckle.

Continuing to hold his gaze, I lost myself in the voice of Patti Smith: "Take me now, baby. Here as I am. Pull me close. Try and understand. Desire is hunger, is the fire I breathe. Love is a banquet on which we feed. Come on now. Try and understand, the way I feel when I'm in your hands. Take my hand. Come under-cover. They can't hurt you now, can't hurt you now, can't hurt you now. Because the night belongs to lovers. Because the night belongs to lust. Because the night belongs to lovers. Because the night belongs to us. Have a doubt, when I'm alone. Love is a ring, the telephone. Love is an angel, disguised as lust, here in our bed, 'til the morning comes. Come on now. Try and understand, the way I feel under your command…"

I thought I'd been looking at Brandon before. I was wrong. Every so often during our dance, my eyes would shift around the room, looking over his shoulder to see who was watching, or to possibly see where Sissy was. But when I looked back, I saw a rapidly-growing fire in his eyes, one that I'd never seen before, even in the lustiest of men. A soft gasp escaped me as I felt the subtle tug of being pulled closer and closer to him. It made sense with the words we were hearing, almost as if our bodies were programmed along to them: "Take my hands as the sun descends. They can't touch you now, can't touch you now, can't touch you now. Because the night belongs to lovers. Because the night belongs to lust. Because the night belongs to lovers. Because the night belongs to us."

His right hand strayed just the teensiest bit lower down my back, dangerously close to the curve near my rear end, and I felt my heart climb into my throat as it did. The grip of his left hand on my right one tightened slightly, and I could sense that he was now taking much deeper breaths of air. I gulped and said, "Um…my lips are getting kind of dry. I t-think I might need another drink soon." He smirked, replying, "My lips are getting dry, too. What are you afraid of?" "Afraid? I'm not afraid of anything." "Prove it."

Ooh, that man really knew how to push my buttons. I let out a soft, indignant huff, narrowing my eyes when an amused expression crossed Brandon's face. Over our heads, the song kept on playing: "With love, we sleep. With doubt, the vicious cycle turns and burns. Without you, I cannot live. Forgive the yearning burning. I believe it's time, too real to feel…" As Patti said, "So, touch me now. Touch me now. Touch me now", I was in shaky, nervous silence as he lifted my right hand up. He placed it on top of his shoulder, right at the curve where it met his neck. The grip of his own right hand grew still-tighter around my waist, while his left one stayed freely limp. I was too scared to move, admittedly in a good way. This was fast-becoming more than just a simple dance, and we both knew it. Our hips swung forward and back like little kids on a playground.

When the chorus started playing again, Brandon told me, "You know…this night really could belong to us…if you want it to, that is." "Wh-What? What do you-?" "Come on. You know what I'm talking about. I know you were paying attention to what my sister said at the gym, what she said about my boss. These things-", and he gestured at the room around us, "do get kind of boring sometimes. You don't know these people like I do. Even _I_ occasionally have a hard time dealing with them. So…Miss Alana…what do you say?" "Say to what?" He smiled and started pulling me closer again, my knees getting weaker with each passing millisecond. "We could get out of here. I know a place."

His face was less than a pen-width's distance from mine, close enough for me to feel his warm breath on my skin. I swallowed hard, wanting to look away but unable to. He then brought up his left hand again, cradling the side of my neck as the tip of his thumb brushed my jaw. Closer and closer…no way, he wasn't…oh gosh, he was…he was going to kiss me. This was just like my dream, but with different surroundings and outfits. True, I was scared, but it was too perfect, too right, too…well, too everything. His eyes started to close as he tilted his head and leaned forward, and so did mine. I could just barely feel his lips, reaching out for contact, and mine reflexively started opening a bit to welcome him. A breathy whimper escaped me. And then…"Alana, there you are!"

We quickly pulled apart as Sissy jogged up to us, balancing two emerald-colored cocktails in her hands. Completely oblivious, she smiled and said, "I was wondering when you'd get here. You look so pretty." Cupping the back of my neck, I tried to keep my now-scarlet face at the ground as I replied, "Um…yeah, thanks a lot. What are those?" "Oh, these?" She held one of the glasses out to me. "They're apple martinis. I've already had one. It was awesome. I decided to have a second, and I figured you'd like to have one, too." "Well, thank you for being so considerate." We both heard Brandon grumble, "Yeah, thanks _a_ _lot_." Sissy turned to him, asking in an annoyed tone, "What bug crawled up _your_ behind?" As I shifted my purse to my other shoulder, I suddenly remembered something important. "That reminds me…" I moved my hand around in my purse until I found it—the card I brought for the birthday boy. "Look, I know I didn't technically have to do this, but…I felt it was only courteous. Could you give this to him for me please…Brand?" A smirk flickered in the corner of his mouth as he took the card from me, acknowledging my use of his sister's nickname for him.

It instantly brought me back thirty seconds earlier, to when we nearly…my eyes dropped again. Without thinking of the possible consequences, or noticing Sissy's confused expression right away, I quickly downed the martini. "Am I missing something here? Is something wrong?" "No, um…n-nothing's wrong, sweetie." I patted her shoulder in reassurance, placing my now-empty glass on a nearby table. I then told her, "I guess I'm just not really up for being a party animal tonight. My body's still adjusting to things like the time change and having classes, so…yeah, I'm pretty tired a lot. I'm sorry, but I think I need to head home early. Is that okay?" "Oh, sure. Totally. I mean, I've got your number, so I'll just call you later to check on you, alright?" I smiled and said simply, "Perfect." We exchanged kissed on the cheek, and I gave Brandon an awkward pat on the arm in farewell.

As I walked to the door, I paused and glanced over my shoulder…one final glance. Though Sissy was distracted again, Brandon hadn't moved a muscle since I'd left. He was still watching me, his eyes blazing. I could tell he wanted to follow me, but he seemed to be fighting with himself. Over my head, I heard the fade-out at the end of "Because the Night": "Because tonight belongs to lovers, if we believe in the night we trust. Because tonight, there are two lovers…" I gave him a tiny smile as I disappeared around the corner.

About a minute later, I slumped onto a bench to wait for a cab. I let out a huge sigh, thinking about what a night it had been. There was only one person I could call in regard to this. She'd probably kill me if I didn't, cheating her out of such a juicy piece of gossip. I dialed Bridget's number and waited. When she finally answered, she asked, "So…how was the party? Did the flirtation go well?" She then giggled, which made me roll my eyes. I told her, "Yeah, the flirtation went well. In fact…I think it went a little bit _too_ well." She asked me what I meant, and I went on to explain everything to her.


	6. Chapter 5: Gossip

_**Chapter Five: Gossip**_

_**AN: I like to call the first part of this chapter my little "Sex & the City" moment.**_

A few days later, my little group and I were gathered at a local prominent café. Chloe sounded confused as she said, "So…he was going to _kiss_ you…" "Mm-hm." Then, Bridget chimed in, "And you _stopped_ him? You _freaking_ _stopped_ him?" "Hey, don't blame me for this. Remember, I told you before that his sister was the one who actually extended the invitation. So naturally, I wouldn't expect something like that…moment…to happen." I huffed as my head dropped, focused on the soda in my glass. I quickly looked away, though, because I kept seeing Brandon's face reflected in the ice-cubes.

While I took a couple bites of my salmon burger, I heard Chloe groan out in sympathy, "Ugh, poor you. I hate it when that happens, the whole interruptions thing." As I twirled my straw around and stirred my drink, I said softly, "Actually…I think it may have been a good thing…that we didn't kiss. I'd be too nervous about what could've happened afterwards, anyway." "Well, I think that's very practical", said voice-of-reason Jodie. The other two girls shot her an "are you crazy"-type look. She just shrugged. "What? I _do_ think it's practical. Look, if you think you won't be able to handle certain aspects of a relationship right away, it's best to take a more cautious approach. Save yourself the worry, you know?" Chloe rolled her eyes as she took a bite of her chicken salad sandwich. Bridget echoed those sentiments by saying, "What was to be worried about? She's legal. _She_ was interested, _he_ was interested…I don't see the problem there." Of course, _you_ wouldn't", I shot back over the rim of my glass. We both giggled as she playfully smacked my arm across the table and said, "Hey, I may be a bit adventurous for some peoples' standards, but at least I use protection." Jodie spit out her drink, and we all burst into laughter.

It took just over five full minutes for us to calm down as I was waving over a waiter to get our check, we thought we heard the voice of Enrique Iglesias playing over the loudspeakers, but it was too soft to hear which song he was singing. We threw surprised looks at Jodie when she gave a wistful sigh. "What?" Chloe raised an eyebrow, questioning, "You okay there, Miss Practical?" Jodie rolled her eyes before replying, "Come on. You know he's hot. And besides, his music is just so catchy." We all nodded in agreement, laughing as we left the café. We were so wrapped up, that we didn't notice a blond woman in a grey long-sleeved t-shirt walking towards us. All five of us collided and fell. We were so embarrassed and ready to give our apologies. Then, I realized who she was.

"Hey, Sissy, what are you doing here?" Pushing her bangs out of her eyes, she replied, "Nothing much, just a walk. Gosh, I'm…I'm so sorry for this. I should've been watching where I was going, and—" "No, no, it's okay", I assured her. "It was our bad, not yours. Um…shoot, where are my manners? Guys…", and with a swing of my arm, I introduced her to the girls: "This is Sissy Sullivan, Brandon's sister. Sissy, this is Chloe, Bridget, and Jodie…my closest friends and the biggest pains in my behind." Jodie winked as she said, "You love us, and you know it." She giggled and shook our new friend's hand, as did the others. I was happy to see them getting along so well so quickly, but her presence suddenly made me think of something else important, or rather…someone.

"Hey, um…speaking of your brother…where is he? What happened to him after I left the party last night?" "He didn't talk much, actually. He had this weird brooding look on his face when we went home. Why?" I felt the warmth creeping back into my cheeks as I quickly looked away, saying, "No special reason." As we started walking again, Sissy asked what we were doing in that area of town. Chloe told her, "We had a massive break between classes today. Thought we might take advantage of that with a long lunch. We're heading back right now. You want to come with us?" Her whole face lit up. It's was adorable, but also a bit sad. Why did this girl seem almost desperate for our attention? Anyway, we reached campus not long after that. When I checked my watched, I said, "It looks like my next class will be biology. If you want, Sissy, I can ask my professor if you can sit in the back. Sound okay with you?" "Yeah, it sounds great."

I had to giggle at the look of awe on Sissy's face when we got to campus. Queensboro Community College was a delicate cross between woodsy and industrial, with a little park-like area in the middle for students to relax and study. "How did you wind up here, of all places", she asked. I told her, "Well, I knew I wanted to attend school in New York, so I applied to as many here as I could, knowing at least one of them had to work out. When I got a letter back from this place, I was overjoyed. I was so happy, largely because it would only be a minor hop, skip, and jump to get into Manhattan. My brothers were so jealous of me when I told them about it." She giggled. "Jealous? Why" "Because they both absolutely love theater. Michael Crawford has always been a shared idol of theirs, and they've wanted to be just like him since they were little. To think I'm closer to Broadway than they are…well, you can just imagine it, can't you?" She rolled her eyes and said, "Oh, believe me, I can. Hey, um…that guy they like…wasn't he the first Phantom, or something?" "That and so much more. I'll tell you more about him some other time. Oh—" I stopped short when I realized that we'd reached the science building. I smiled and gestured at it, saying, "Right this way." We linked arms in an overly-dramatic fashion, both giggling as we walked inside.

One class, one two-hour free period to catch up on homework, and one hour-and-a-half lab project later, I parted ways with all my friends. Bridget asked if I was sure I didn't want to head to dinner with them. "Yep, I'm sure. I've got that book report to do, anyway. I'll pick up some Chinese take-out on the way home. See you guys tomorrow." After they left, I hugged Sissy and told her to "say 'hi' to Brandon for me". "Will do. and thanks for showing me around your school. It was awesome." "No problem. Any time." Then, she started giggling for no apparent reason. "What?" "Nothing. I was just thinking of what you told me right before your lab started.

We'd elaborated more on my brothers' idolization of Michael Crawford. As we downed orange-flavored Sunkist sodas, I'd told her, "They always say how funny it would be if somehow, they both ended up in a production of _Phantom_. And it would be, too. Just think about it: two brothers, both in the lead parts, fighting over the same girl." After sharing a second hug, Sissy left, and I went off to find dinner and go back to my apartment.


	7. Chapter 6: A Walk In The Park

_**Chapter Six: A Walk in the Park**_

I walked through my front door not quite an hour later, greeted by Meeko, the year-old tabby cat I'd adopted only the day before. Getting a pet had been my mother's idea. She thought it would help me to not feel so alone, and she was right as usual. He jumped into my lap as I sat on my couch, chomping down on an eggroll and opening my book to a specific bunch of highlighted pages.

I'd come up with a color system to break up information for that particular class, and my report in particular. Passages done in pink or orange were considered the most likely to be looked at as quote sources by my professor. Green was the second-most-likely, and blue meant least-likely. Yellow mean a possible future test question. I must've downed three cans of soda as I made my notes, as well as the beginnings of my reports' first draft. A light rain began to pour outside, and its gentle, soothing rhythm brought back images of a certain pair of pained-looking ice-blue eyes. My discussion with Sissy about _Phantom_ had turned out to be an ironic one, because all I could think of while imagine Brandon's face was the line, "Yet in his eyes, all the sadness of the world." It was an apt, yet odd comparison, given his forwardness at the party. I gave a loud sigh, taking a bite from one of the fried doughnuts I'd brought back from the restaurant.

Luckily, Indiana Jones was there to pull me from my darkened mood. "Kingdom of the Crystal Skull" was on television, and the good-hearted humor in it never ceased to amaze me. "Grab the snake!" "Stop calling it that!" I giggled under my breath and shook my head. Great adventurer, wise professor…and sometimes, more childish than his own son, bless him. Then, as if from some strange earlier cue, my cell phone rang. I was shocked to see the number on its screen. I pressed the appropriate button, nervously asking, "Sissy, what's wrong? Is everything okay?" "No, it's me. And yes, everything is fine." I nearly choked on my own saliva.

I wasn't expecting Brandon to call me like this, so out-of-the-blue. "Um…hi. Uh…glad to hear it's all good over there. How did you get my number, by the way?" "How do you think?" I could hear the amused chuckle in his voice. I tried to keep things light, playfully asking him, "Are you being sarcastic, Mr. Sullivan?" "Hey now, don't start making me feel old." I couldn't take it anymore, and a choked laugh did manage to escape me. He asked if I was done, and I could hear the unmistakable tone of victory.

An awkward silence then set in, one that lasted for almost a full minute-and-a-half. Somewhere inside, I knew he was calling to apologize for what happened at the party, but instinct also told me there was something more at play. I cleared my throat and asked, "So, um…what are you doing right now?" "Nothing much. I'm just standing outside my apartment building, having a smoke. I'm probably going to go for a walk in a bit. You?" I gave an over-exaggerated groan and sigh, telling him simply, "Homework." He chuckled under his breath. "Brutal. Sounds like you could use a break."

I could. My legs were getting kind of stiff. But still, a part of me wondered why he brought that up in the first place. Was he hinting at something, flirting again maybe? Oh, who was I kidding? Of course, he was. But at that point, I knew he was a good enough guy to not try anything I didn't want. So, I said, "Actually…yeah, I think I do need one. I've been at this for just over three hours, and I think I'm getting a bit of cabin fever. Why?" He replied, "I'm thirteen minutes away." "My, my, you _are_ a bold one." I couldn't see his face, but I could still sense the smile that was surely crossing it. Imagining that put a tiny shiver down my spine, and it caused a delicate flush to come to my cheeks.

A little while later, I walked down to the corner to wait for Brandon. It seemed an eternity before I finally spotted him, looking just as great and clean-pressed as he always did. A slight, barely-there breeze ruffled his hair, and the glow from the nearby streetlights brought out the coppery highlights in it. I shook my head to clear my thoughts, not wanting them to show on my face. Before I could talk, he raised a hand and said, "Two minutes late. I know. Say nothing." I rolled my eyes and giggled before replying, "Well, hey to you, too." He gave a tiny smile in response making a slight gesture with his head and telling me, "Come on. Let's walk."

As we walked through the gates of Central Park, I said, "I can't believe this is open so late." "Eight o' clock isn't that late. Besides, this _is_ 'the city that never sleeps'. Very few things are closed at all." "I guess I'm still getting used to the time changes. Back home, I'm pretty sure my mum and dad are in bed right now." He just smiled. It was so nice to walk and talk with Brandon like this. He seemed to adorably shy and unsure, the complete opposite of the man he was at the party. I took a sip of my coffee and asked, "So, what about you and your parents? What's your story?" His expression changed for a flicker of a moment as he replied, "I'd rather not talk about it." I didn't push him. Sissy had told me earlier in the day that they'd grown up in New Jersey, but I was okay with anything else having to wait. I gave him a small partial smile, a silent way of telling him I understood.

Apparently, a few others had the same idea as us. I must've spotted five other people walking in the park, one of them with her dog. The Dalmatian appeared to be smiling as he licked his owner's relaxed hand. I giggled under my breath when I heard her say, "No. No more treats for you today, bottomless pit." They reached a bench that was very close to us. The woman sat down and took a small book from her purse, also setting a travel-sized radio next to her. Her poor dog slumped to the ground in defeat, a sad expression in his eyes. Brandon and I exchanged looks of amusements.

We walked a few more steps before he asked me, "How about you? What are some of your unique quirks?" "Unique? I think the word you're looking for is 'weird'." He smiled, but I could tell he wasn't giving up. I rolled my eyes and told him, "Well…okay, here's one thing. I can't drink plain milk." He twitched up an eyebrow. "Seriously, I can't. It has to have some kind of extra flavor, or I physically can't drink it. I don't know why. I'm also terrible with biting my nails. I love the smell of cinnamon, especially in freshly-baked cookies…and I have to eat junk food in even numbers. "What do you mean?" "I mean, if a person has a bowl of chips or cheese-puffs or something like that, I have to take an even number of them. I think it's my way of making sure there's still a decent amount left for other people to take, if they want it." He nodded in contemplation, pushing out his bottom lip in a way that made me giggle. "What?" "Nothing."

A short pause later, he asked, "Speaking of want…what do _you_ want…right now? I need specifics." I blushed as I looked at the ground. I wasn't expecting a question like that. "I, um…I-I just think it's too soon for me to know precisely what I want…for anything, really. I need a better grounding before I make a choice like that." The look on his face told me this conversation suddenly had a double-meaning. He leaned in a bit, a smirk teasing at the corner of his mouth as he asked, "_Really_? Are you _sure_?" I gulped and took a quick step back, putting a hand up to feel the warm blush that was surely on my face. I had that by tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

While we'd been talking, Brandon and I didn't notice that the girl on the bench had changed the channel on her radio, and also upped the volume. From where we stood, we could clearly hear the song that was playing: "Sharing the Night Together" by Dr. Hook. The sun had fully gone down by now, the strung-up flicker-lights had turned on, and I could see a few fireflies starting to gather around. I took a few steps away from my companion, smiling in wonder at them. I could feel his eyes on me as I softly said, "It's so rare to see them like this in England." He sighed, and I heard the sound of his shoes scraping the sidewalk as he started following me.

The music in the background made the moment almost too perfect: "You're looking kind of lonely, girl. Would you like someone new to talk to? Ah, yeah, alright. I'm feeling kind of lonely, too. If you don't mind, can I sit down here beside you? Ah, yeah, alright. If I seem to come on too strong, I hope you understand. I say these things, 'cause I'd like to know if you're as lonely as I am and if you mind…sharing the night together. Oh yeah. Sharing the night together. Oh yeah. Sharing the night." I felt a tug on my wrist, and I looked over my shoulder as Brandon said, "Let's go this way." He led me down a slightly more secluded pathway, one that went close to the zoo area. If I looked closely enough, I was sure I could see the sign for it through the bushes.

We walked up onto a small hill, where we had a pretty decent view of the Manhattan skyline. I sighed in awe of the amazing sight and said, "Wow. All those lights…so many hopes and dreams contained on one tiny island." From the corner of my eye, I saw the woman from earlier with her dog, jogging down a path close to us. I heard Brandon say, "Hopes and dreams, indeed." What he meant by that, I didn't quite know yet, but a growing part of me wanted almost desperately to find out. I lightly patted his forearm as a way of comfort, but I moved back when I saw him flinch. The reason he didn't seem to like being touched a lot was another mystery I was struggling with. At least, I could honestly say that I was trying.

The woman's radio was still going, and we both heard Dr. Hook croon, "We could bring in the morning, girl, if you want to go that far. And if tomorrow finds us together, right here the way we are, would you mind…sharing the night together? Oh yeah. Sharing the night together. Oh yeah. Sharing the night." The lyric forced me to imagine what could've happened if Sissy hadn't interrupted us at the party, or if she'd never even been there at all. We'd been within a sewing needle's width of locking lips, just a single twitch away. If I concentrated, I could still feel the soothing warmth of his hand cradling my face, the perfect fit against my cheek. I gently touched the spot in remembrance, taking a deep breath as I briefly closed my eyes and willed my knees to not become goo.

As if he could sense my line of thinking, I heard Brandon take a couple more steps in my direction. His shadow soon overtook mine as he came to stand directly behind me. Slowly, he lightly gripped my upper arms and leaned down over my shoulder, whispering into my right ear, "What are some of _your_ hopes and dreams, Alana? It's alright. You can tell me." As I turned to look at him, it was all I could do to not reach out and touch his face. I told him, "Right now…right now, I'd like to keep walking." He took the hint, a smirk teasing at the corner of his mouth as we moved back down the hill.

The air between us was thick with tension, but still strangely light-hearted. The wind started picking up a bit more. And still, the radio played on: "Would you like to dance with me and hold me? You know I wanna be holding you. Ah, yeah, alright. 'Cause feeling like I do, and I see in your eyes that you're likin' it, too. Ah, yeah, alright. Like to get to know you better. Is there a place where we can go, where we can be alone together and turn the lights down low, and start…sharing the night together. Oh yeah. Sharing the night together. Oh yeah. Sharing the night together. Oh yeah. Sharing the night. Oh yeah. Sharing the night." I thought I saw Brandon move to reach for my hand, but he pulled back just as quickly.

Then out of nowhere, his cell phone went off. He sighed as he checked the number. "What? What is it?" "It's a text from my boss. He's telling me about an important meeting we have at the end of this week." I groaned in sympathy, giving a tiny smile as I patted his arm. His head snapped in my direction, and I blushed as I remembered his boundary issues and pulled away. Gosh, I was already calling them issues. Did I really know this guy that well that quickly? A nervous whisper of "I'm sorry" fell from my lips, but the sound of it was lost, swallowed up by Brandon's own loud gulp of air. He was such a man of contradictions. We stood there, frozen for what seemed an eternity. But then, he suddenly leaned forward, his face hovering over mine in a pause of indecision. The tip of his nose, just barely brushed mine. I was so close, that I was able to watch millisecond-by-millisecond as his pupils dilated, his beautiful blue eyes slowly turning black. He was shaking, but I didn't know why. I could see that same battle going on within him again, just like it had at the party, a kind of dark internal war.

Brandon gathered what appeared to remain of his strength, just enough to back slightly away and ask, "Your first class is at nine tomorrow morning, right?" I shook myself out of my daze, replying, "Nine-fifteen, actually." He mumbled "_right_" as he stood up straight again, adjusting his jacket as he took a couple of steps back. I briefly looked away, but from the corner of my left eye, I could've sworn I saw him adjust _something_ _else_. Clearing his throat, he lit up a cigarette and took a puff before telling me, "I should probably be getting you out of here before it gets too late, then." We remained in awkward, confused silence as we left Central Park. When we reached the nearest street corner, I watched as he stretched his arm out a short distance into the street, a clear and unmistakable gesture.

A cab pulled up within seconds. He held the door open for me and said, "I have to get back to my place, so this should get you home safely", making a 'get in'-type gesture with his opposite arm. As I moved to do that, I asked, "Wha—d-did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?" "No. I just need…I-I'm pretty tired now. I need to get home and crash." He was lying. I knew it, but I couldn't prove it. "A-Are you sure. Are you okay?" "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Just go." I looked down, silently lifting my other leg into the cab. He slipped payment to the driver before shutting the door. As it pulled away, I couldn't help but turn around and stare out the back window, focusing on where Brandon stood. He looked so helpless, frightened, and deeply confused as he paced in a circle and repeatedly ran his fingers through his hair. I couldn't stare for long, though, because his form quickly disappeared beyond the horizon.

However, I noticed something strange as I walked into my apartment building a short while later. I thought I saw Brandon again, standing on a corner with a rather scantily-clad young girl. He was smiling again, but from my point of view, it appeared to be a forced one. They seemed to be in deep discussion about something. I watched him place his left hand on the small of her back as he led her away. Once they disappeared from my line of sight, a heavy sigh escaped my lips. Why he needed to see a woman like that, I had no idea. And frankly, a growing part of me really didn't want to know.

Meeko ran up to me and rubbed himself against my legs when I walked into my apartment, just as he'd done earlier in the day. I picked him up and snuggled him, giving a light kiss to the top of his head as I scratched behind his ear. As I put him down, the phone rang. Chloe's voice came through the receiver, asking, "So…what's up, girl? How'd the bogging-down go?" I giggled, knowing she was referring to my homework and studying. I thought for a minute, reflecting back on all that had occurred in that evening, before telling her, "Not bad at all, actually. In fact…I'd say it was a walk in the park."


	8. Chapter 7: These Dreams

_**Chapter Seven: These Dreams**_

_**AN: This chapter contains a song from the "Twilight: Eclipse" soundtrack.**_

The affect that night had on me was undeniable. The image of Brandon with the girl, who was in all likelihood a prostitute, on the street corner still nagged me in the back of my mind. I was in debate over what it meant, though. This turmoil was so great, I actually did the unthinkable…I called Bridget for advice. I told her everything, right up until the milliseconds before I went back into my apartment building. I asked her what she thought. She told me, "You think he's got boundary issues with touching, but _he_ was fine with touching _you_?" "Yes, but it was so weird, though. He kept having this strange look in his eyes, like he was weighing all possible consequences of just one simple touch. Yet, with that other girl, he acted…well, if not completely at-ease, he certainly seemed a bit more comfortable with her than with me." I heard her sigh on the other end, as if she was in deep thought over the issue. "Bridge…what do you think?"

She replied, "I think…I think he's scared for some reason. That's really the only excuse I can think of at this point." "No kidding, he's scared. But what I want to know is why." "Well, obviously, I don't _know_ why, girl. I'm not telepathic here, and I'm not an expert in the field like your parents." She paused another minute before asking, "Speaking of…have you thought about calling them and asking one of their opinions?" "Heck, no. What do you think I could possibly tell them, anyway? Oh…'Hey, Mum and Dad. I just met this guy. There might be a possibility of us dating, but I think he's afraid of touching me. What are _your_ thoughts?' Come _on_." She giggled, and I could sense her smirk on the other end. I took a sip from my soda bottle as she said, "He might be trying to protect you from something." "Like what?" "Like…maybe from the fact that he's a very sensual person, and he knows you wouldn't be into that right away." "Oh, that's rich. He goes gallivanting around with another woman to protect _my_ virtue. Another woman…we're not…he's not even my boyfriend. I blame _you_ for this. You've got my mind all warped up." "Right. Keep telling yourself that, girl." We both laughed, hanging up not long after that.

I had another strange dream that same night, one that seemed like a direct continuation of my first one two weeks earlier. I was back in the Victorian era, back in that same gown, snuggled up close to Dream-Brandon. With a light kiss to the curve of my neck, he tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow, leading me away from the lake and whispering simply, "Come with me." We walked along in slow, sweet silence, the wind whistling softly all around us. At the end of the path, a black carriage was waiting for us. The horse attached to it made a loud snorting sound, which cause me to giggle. I took notice of the red rose design on the door as my companion whispered something to our driver. He then held the door open for me and gestured for me to get in, which I was quick to do. The area we were currently in was a bit too creepy for my taste. As the door closed behind him, he moved closer and put his arm around me, drawing me closer to him again. His blue eyes seemed to glow in the dim lighting, focused on me with an intensity I'd never seen possessed by any other man. Our gazes still locked, he tapped the roof of the carriage, and we started moving.

We cuddled against each other as the wind picked up, the slightest chill seeping into the carriage. He looked at me and smiled. Though there was no radio or other source present, "Let's Get Lost", a song by Beck and Bat for Lashes, started playing. It was a great 'journey'-type song, perfect for a romantic situation like this. While Dream-Brandon whispered random sweet things in my ear, I listened quietly to the song's lyrics: "Touch me. I'm cold, unable to control. Touch me. I'm golden and wild as the wind blows. And tumbling, tumbling, don't go fascination. If for tonight, darling, let's get lost. If just for tonight, darling, let's get lost."

By now, his lips were bumping and ghosting over mine, his right hand messaging the space between my shoulder-blades as his left one strayed up into my hair. The bridge of his nose fit perfectly against the curve of my ear, and I felt myself getting increasingly breathless as he whispered, "What do you really want, Alana? What do you want in life, hmm? Tell me about your dreams." I gulped hard, finding enough nerve to ask back, "H-How about a trade? W-What is it that _you_ w-want?" I felt him smile against the skin of my neck. Although I couldn't see it, I know I must've been blushing by then. He then peppered light kisses on the tip of my nose and along the bridge of it, before leaning in and replying softly, "You know perfectly well what I want." Meanwhile, the song continued to play: "Let me come closer. I'm not your shadow, with our eyes shielding from the oncoming counts. It's not hard for us to say that we should not. If just for tonight, darling, let's get lost. If just for tonight, darling, let's get lost."

The carriage then suddenly lurched to a stop in front of a building that was buzzing with activity, obviously a party of some kind. It reminded me of pictures I'd once seen in a history book, showing the grand-opening of Carnegie Hall. It also reminded me of the birthday celebrations for Brandon's boss. I recalled Sissy informing me that he'd been the one to flirt with me at the bar. Brandon's question from when we'd danced that night also echoed in my memory: "What are you afraid of?" That same question was on my mind as I exited the carriage with his dream-world counterpart, a shudder running through me as the chilly night air once more hit my skin. My companion put his arm around me, smiling as he whispered "Follow me" into my ear and led me inside. Somewhere above my head, I heard the third verse of the song: "Touch me. I'm cold, unable to control. Touch me. I'm golden, and wild as the wind blows. And tumbling, tumbling, don't go fascination."

Fascination, indeed. I could barely focus on anything else but my partner's face as he guided me around the room, introducing me to various people. And so, the last bits of the song continued: "If just for tonight, darling, let's get lost. If just for tonight, darling, let's get lost. If just for tonight, darling, let's get lost. Oooooh, ooooooh, ooooooh…let's get lost." The final repeat of that three-word phrase sounded out as Dream-Brandon offered me a glass of wine. He flashed an encouraging smile. I slowly and tentatively reached out to take it, my nerves making me pause every couple of milliseconds. However, just before my fingers closed around the stem of the glass, a tunnel seemed to form around my line of vision. The ground beneath my feet shook, and I felt myself start to fall as I opened my mouth to scream. No sound came out right then, but it surely did as I woke up and my eyes snapped open.

Wiping the sweat away from my forehead, I whispered "Holy cow" as I scrambled to my feet. My original plan had been to just splash some cold water on my face, take some Z-Quil, and go back to bed. That idea, however, was quickly squashed when I looked out the window. The sun was coming up, and it was almost 6:30, meaning I'd slept a ½-hour longer than I usually would on a day I had classes. Rolling my eyes, I jogged to the bathroom and raced to get ready. Whatever this new dream mean, it would have to wait.


	9. Chapter 8: Sissy's Invite

_**Chapter Eight: Sissy's Invite**_

_**AN: I only know a tiny bit about British culture, but I still hope I made it sound good in this chapter.**_

I could barely focus in class that day, which was quite rare for me. I mean, don't get me wrong, I copied down as many notes as I possibly could. I just…it was like I couldn't even feel my hand and pencil moving over the paper, like my brain wasn't registering it. All I kept thinking about was Brandon, and how the way he'd looked at me in the park kept changing so frequently. Maybe, he really _was_ scared. Like…if _I'd_ been so terribly hurt in _my_ past, I'd be wary of getting close to people, too. If the other part of my theory was correct, that he was trying to not be pushy and pressuring, I was grateful for it. I was still thinking about this as I sat on a bench by the fountain, slumped over a bit and plowing through a row of Ritz crackers. "Why does the man have to be such a funhouse mirror", I mumbled under my breath.

What annoyed me even more was that I'd have to be thinking about this during a test, which was set to happen in my algebra class in a couple of hours. I had to remain on-campus, or at least in the near-area of it, until that time. Then, I suddenly realized that was only a minor technicality. I was pretty close with most of my professors, so maybe…maybe, my teacher for that class would let me take the test early. If I asked nicely, that is. Filled with hope and resolve, I threw out what remained of my crackers and power-walked to the math department. Thank goodness, I must've caught my professor in a good moor, because she did indeed let me test early. So what, if I told a little white lie about having to get my teeth cleaned? It was harmless. I mean, I couldn't exactly tell her the real story, "I'm wrapped up in thinking about a guy, so I won't be able to focus in your class and don't want to be there." That was too complicated.

As I was getting into my car a little while later, I was surprised by my cell-phone going off. "Hello?" "Hey, girl, what's up?" I smiled at the sound of Sissy's voice. Such a caring person…I loved her to bits. "Nothing much. Took a test early. I've got a lot on my mind right now, so I really needed some time to relax. What's up with you?" "Uh, well, Brand's working late tonight, so I'll be home alone. Want to go get some ice-cream?" "You sure? It's kind of chilly out." "Hmm…how about a latte? I know about this really cool coffee shop." "Sure. Why not?"

"So, when someone in your native country likes somebody else…you say they 'fancy' them?" I'd been explaining British culture to Sissy for a good half-hour. I giggled and told her, "Yeah, but there's also other terms. Sometimes, we say one person 'carries a torch' for the other. Either way, it means the same thing." We ordered two caramel-apple mini-cakes, and I was in the middle of eating mine when she then asked me, "Hey, do you think you could stop by for dinner?" Trying not to choke, I replied, "I thought you said…" "Well, yeah, but I was just planning on ordering a pizza. I don't know when my brother will be back." My hesitance made her say, "If you're not cool with it, then I-I totally—" "No, no, it's okay. I've got some great free time to kill. I don't mind."

We must've looked hilarious to the other drivers on the highway, loudly singing Cascada's "Pyromania" as we drove to Sissy and Brandon's apartment. She was amazed that I'd done so well, adapting to driving on the opposite side of the road. "My dad helped me practice in abandoned parking lots. He had several friends from his university days who still had their own cars, and he used those to teach me." "He sounds like a smart guy." "Yeah, he is." "What are your parents' names again?" "Jack and Miriam." "And you're the youngest in your family?" "Mm-hm, but that doesn't mean I'm in the least bit spoiled. The boys look out for me, but mostly, I'm pretty independent." A wistful look briefly crossed Sissy's face, but I brushed it off.

Their apartment was certainly a lot cleaner than what I'd expected. Not that I'd thought it would be a total dump, mind you. I just didn't think it would be so…so…_Better_ _Homes & Gardens_. I mean, literally, it looked like it had come out of a magazine. It was almost…_too_ perfect. I was torn from my thoughts by the sound of Sissy's voice: "Hey, how 'bout some hot cocoa?" "Um…yeah…sure, okay." "Cool. I'll even put some Bailey's in to really jazz it up." I giggled, mostly because of the sweet and almost childlike way she'd said "jazz it up". Then, I told her, "You know, I'm surprised you brought me the martini at the party." "Well, isn't the legal drinking age in Europe eighteen?" "_Yes_, but we're not _in_ Europe. I, personally, would rather not spend my time in this country, getting arrested." "And _I_ would rather you live a little." I laughed and gave her a playful shove. "Besides", she said, "You can always call a cab if things get out of hand." "_No_. The driver would report me." "Not if Brand or I gave them enough money to get you home safely."

I paused, forcing myself to overlook the freezing of my heart that merely hearing his name produced. The dreams about Brandon were increasing in number and becoming more vivid. I'd never felt like this about a guy before…ever. I mean, sure, I'd had boyfriends that I'd kissed and, only in two cases, allowed to touch my chest. And yet…it was nothing like this at all. My friends and family would probably call it my first taste of real passion, but I, personally, couldn't choose a label. I was too scared to do that.


End file.
